


Reward

by yhibiki



Category: DRAMAtical Murder
Genre: Bad Ending, Guro, M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-13
Updated: 2012-05-13
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:24:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yhibiki/pseuds/yhibiki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aoba is a reward for Clear. But Clear is not a reward for Aoba. (Goes off the Clear bad ending.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reward

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this before I had translated the scene, so there are some tiny inconsistencies. Ignore them! :P

There is a small glimmer of hope in him, when Clear undoes the handcuffs keeping him tied to the bed. He thinks, for a moment, that Clear has managed to free himself from whatever reprogramming he’d been subjected to. He hopes, just for a second, that the Clear who brings a splash of color to his washed out life will give him his life back.

“Toue gave you to me,” Clear explains as he lifts Aoba up. “It’s a reward.”

It's not a reward for Aoba. “Please, Clear, please. Remember how it was before.”

But he doesn’t have the strength to struggle, not with the drugs still coursing through his veins and the months of experiments they’ve run on him. He wants to find his voice, wishes for his other self to take over, but even he has left Aoba now. He escaped when Aoba couldn’t.

Clear brings him to a cell with a single window, too high up for Aoba to look out of. He tries anyway, but Clear’s hands land over his eyes.

“Don’t worry about that. The only thing you need to look at is me.”

Aoba pushes the hands away and crawls forward, puts maybe two feet of distance between them before Clear drags him back. “Clear, let me go. It doesn’t have to be like this,” he sobs, quietly.

Clear seems to consider this, then smiles. “You’re right. I don’t have to give you the ability to walk away from me.”

Aoba doesn’t understand what he means, not until Clear’s fingers grip his knee and squeeze, and there’s a loud crunch and blood pouring forth and Aoba is glad that he’s still drugged, because the pain is dull and muted.

“You’re completely mine, Aoba-san,” Clear whispers, and brings a bloody finger up to Aoba’s lips.


End file.
